Things can only get better...

29 Mar. 10

I had a talk with one of my cousins, and he pointed out that my addiction to fiction was neither healthy nor helpful. I fought his assertions valiantly, but in the end I bawled like a baby as he’s right. I do prefer the fantasy of my books and DVDs to any part of my waking reality.
My argument was that I’m happier when immersed in my world of fiction rather than facing my real life. I totally changed my viewpoint by the end, as he had hit my problem right on its head (I think he should have been a politician). I am lonely, yet I’m not doing anything to change this state of being. Yes I’m on social networks and dating sites, but I really don’t like interacting with others. Whenever I’m ‘talking’ to someone, I’m itching to sign off and do something by myself. I guess because I’m always thinking, this person must be bored with me, and I don’t want them to be cursing me out under their breath.

I also have nothing new to say. Nothing that I want other people to know ever happens to me. So the conversation goes like this:

So what’s new?
Err, nothing.
Oh, ok.
…
…
Still working at the same place?
Yeah, you?
Yeah.
…
…
So, let’s catch up again soon.

Urgh! I wish I could say ‘I’m getting married in 3 weeks’ or ‘I’ve just moved house’ or ‘my huge stomach contains identical twin girls actually’ instead of ‘Although you haven’t seen me in 14 years, my life has not changed in any significant way, except I’m 8 stone heavier and I now know what my extreme ‘moodiness’ was about. You?’